Mechanical Dolls

Ear holes closed to the world Hands thumping to the beat All made in the same mould How they enjoy this moronic feat! You would feel they are not from womb But batches generated by machines Clones consigned to doom Mechanical dolls in their teens! It’s no yielding to passion For music that touches the heart Just an unquestioning submission to fashion That once acquired defies to depart! Their earpiece shuts out the world And with it goes the fine art of hearing Cursed and made in the same mould They never know how sweetly the birds sing!